Heavy Heart
by ghost-wiring
Summary: After resigning from the FBI, Norman Jayden faces declining mental and physical health. He is admitted to a private treatment facility where strange things begin to happen convincing Jayden that he has become entangled in a murderous mystery. Jayden/OC.
1. Chapter 1

The drive up the long winding road to Clear View was intimidating in the dark. It had been a couple of days prior when I'd seen this road in daylight. Now, as I sat slumped in the backseat of a transit van, I began to have doubts as to whether I should have signed up for this at all. A sudden shaking ripped through my body as I fought back the urge to vomit. I wiped the cold sweat off my brow with my shirt sleeve. The time for denial is over; I need help.

Clear View had a private therapy program created to aid those who'd had similar experiences with government exclusive technologies, pharmaceuticals, and so forth. The government isn't keen on letting the general public know about its missteps, so it doubles as a drug rehabilitation facility for the everyday drug user—the coke heads, the heroin addicts, the alcoholics, etc. It sits majestically on a mountain top overlooking scenic forests, lovely lakes and the like. My sentence was ninety days. I knew they would be hellish, no matter how comfortable they made me, no matter how beautiful my surroundings.

The ARI I'd used was a preliminary model. I was among a handful of other agents who received training; we were the guinea pigs in an experiment to test ARI's abilities and limits in the real world, in real cases. Of the five agents who received training, I was the one who experienced the most undesirable side effects. Though I resigned from the FBI after my last case, I was still required to check in with the ARI project managers. They recommended at my last update that I undergo rehabilitation at Clear View since my condition was worsening rather than improving. At first, I declined. I kept trying to tell myself that I was getting better, that the events of the last month were at last becoming hazy in my mind, no longer important. I tried to tell myself that the shakes were normal—I was just cold, that the vomiting, the headaches were normal—maybe I got food poisoning?

I stopped using ARI after I'd failed to solve a case that resulted in three peoples' deaths, but my need for it still haunted me day and night. The triptocaine no longer helped, and it too was causing its own share of problems. That synthetic sludge that was supposed to "take the edge off" was wearing on my brain, my heart, making them weak. I used to get nose bleeds sometimes after using the ARI; after waking up to a coughing fit one morning and spewing blood into my bathroom sink, I decided it was time for some therapy.

The US government was ready to wipe my ass if I requested it—anything to avoid a lawsuit. So I received private quarters in an exclusive treatment facility. I met with a team of doctors that had been trained to deal with my case, to help me cope with the aftermath of ARI. I was allowed privileges normal patients wouldn't get, like the ability to leave the facility as long as I was accompanied by a member of Clear View staff. Anything to sweeten the deal.

After touring the Clear View property and my future three month dwelling place, I returned home to make arrangements and tie up loose ends. I got my neighbor to look after my apartment. I called my mother and told her I was going on a special case, that I wouldn't be able to contact her for a while. She didn't know I'd resigned; I didn't have the guts to tell her the truth. There wasn't anyone else to say goodbye to. My involvement with the FBI limited my social interactions so I hadn't made any real connections outside the workplace.

I was set to go to the facility the following Monday. I went in to update the ARI project managers one last time before my departure. I collapsed on the subway and awoke at headquarters. I was lying on a hospital bed in a dim room. Dr. Yasuda, the doctor that had been overseeing my case, came in minutes later, a grim look on his face. "Your condition is worse than we thought. We fear it is no longer safe to leave you on your own. We are making arrangements to send you to Clear View tonight."

I was put in this van an hour later and was on my way. The nurse they'd sent with me had been watching me warily the entire trip as if she expected me to croak at any second. She gently touched my arm as we approached the building. "We're here," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

She got out first and, along with the driver, helped me out of the van. Another nurse emerged from the front door pushing a wheel chair. They set me down gently. The two nurses briefly murmured to each other. Their voices were too low for me to hear, or maybe it was the fact that I was so tired, an overwhelming urge to sleep weighing on me. I suddenly began rolling and I realized the other nurse and the driver had already gotten back into the van and were driving away.

"My name is Jennifer," the Clear View nurse whispered into my ear. "I'm going to take you to your room now and let you rest."

I wanted to ask her why I was being treated like I was nearing death-they'd explained so little at headquarters when I'd woken up—but I was so tired I couldn't speak. She wheeled me down many hallways, unrecognizable in the dark. I was soon in my room; the queen sized bed, much bigger than the other patients' beds, called out, ready to embrace me.

Jennifer gently lifted me from the wheelchair and placed me on the bed. I wondered how the woman, probably half a foot shorter than myself, could maneuver me so easily. I looked down at my baggy clothes and remembered all the weight I'd lost over the past month.

"Would you like me to help you change clothes?" she asked.

"No," I said, a bit embarrassed despite my exhaustion.

"Ok. Just call for me when you're ready."

Jennifer left the room while I undressed. I was relieved to put on clean clothes; the ones I'd been wearing were drenched in sweat. I collapsed on the bed, grateful that I wouldn't have to move anymore for the night. "I'm finished," I called out weakly.

She was barely in the room before I felt my eyes closing. I felt her attaching a monitor to me. The door opened again; I heard footsteps, high heels clicking on the floor. A new voice, deep yet feminine, talked with Jennifer. Then she spoke to me. "How are you feeling Norman?" I struggled to open my eyes but with no luck. I listened to their conversation resume, hearing only their voices, not their words, and I fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up surprised to find myself in my room at Clear View. It took me a few minutes to gather my senses and remember why I was here. I was on the train. I rubbed my eyes. There was blood on my hand. I hit the ground. I woke up. I was in a darkened room. Dr. Yasuda said it was time for me to go, that I wouldn't make it on my own any longer. I sighed and rolled over in bed, wishing I would go back to sleep.

Something tugged at my arm as I rolled over. A stinging pain shot down to my fingertips. It was then that I noticed I had an IV tube coming out of my hand. There were also new monitors stuck across my chest. These additions must have come after I passed out. I remembered Jennifer the nurse putting the clip on my finger that measured my heart beat. Was there someone else here? I thought I remembered another voice…

The door opened quietly and an unfamiliar nurse walked in. She flipped through some papers attached to a clip board seemingly unaware that I was in the room. As she put the clip board down and approached the bed, she looked startled to see that I was awake.

"Oh, good morning! Well…good afternoon, I suppose I should say."

I was unsure of what to say to her. My mind was still sifting through the contents of yesterday's events, trying to make sense of it all.

"I'm Janet. I'll be your daytime attendant."

Janet, an older lady with graying blond hair, moved around me quickly and adeptly, checking my IV, reading the monitors. "How are you feeling?" she asked over her shoulder, still looking at the monitors.

"I feel fine," I said. And it was true. I suddenly noticed feeling remarkably better than I had over the past few weeks. There was no headache, my hands weren't shaking. I felt alert, focused.

"Good! The treatment seems to be taking effect already. You'll be better in no time!"

I looked at her, confused. "Are any of the doctors that are working on my treatment here? I need someone to catch me up. I'm not really sure of what is going on."

"Yes, your case coordinator, Dr. Taylor will want to speak to you now that you're awake." She finished writing on her clipboard and turned to face me. "I'll go let him know. He'll be in shortly, ok? Until then, continue to rest. It's important you don't move around a lot."

She left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. I remembered how careful the nurses from the previous night had treated me. Nurse Janet seemed to be treating me the same way. The way they tiptoed around disturbed me. Plus the fact I'd just been told not to move a lot. I had a feeling I didn't want to know what was going on.

Only a couple of minutes passed before there was a gentle knock on the door. Dr. Taylor, one of the doctors I'd met with days earlier, entered the room.

"Hello, Norman. Pleased to meet you again," he said, smiling warmly. There was something I didn't trust about this man. I got an automatic feeling of insincerity each time I met him. "Nurse Janet says you're doing well."

"I certainly feel better than yesterday," I said.

"Good. Well, I'm here to talk with you about your treatment and what you can expect over the next three months. We've already gone over this briefly but I expect you'd like to know more about the program in detail."

I simply nodded and he continued.

"Unfortunately we were forced to begin treating you earlier than expected so while we normally like to explain the drugs you will be administered, you've already began that side of the treatment. Over the night, we gave you drugs to help with the withdrawal symptoms. We also gave you IV fluids to help with some minor dehydration. You'll soon be given something to help cleanse your body of the toxins left behind by the Triptocaine. You're going to need to stay on bed rest for the next couple of days until we're convinced you're body systems are back up to par. After you're rested up, we're going to wean you off most of the drugs you're being given now and focus on recovery. But we'll talk more about that when the time comes. Any questions?"

I hesitated, wondering where to begin. "I'm a bit confused. I know I collapsed on the subway yesterday. Dr. Yasuda wanted to send me away at once but he didn't explain why. He just said my condition was worse than he thought."

Dr. Taylor looked at me, mildly surprised, as if he hadn't expected such a question. He regained composure and smiled. "Well, we were going to discuss this with you a few days from now once the treatment would have had longer to work its magic. I can tell you now, but you mustn't become overly concerned."

I looked at him dubiously. He sighed as if he wished he hadn't started this conversation, but continued. "You were intercepted by ARI project managers at the hospital yesterday afternoon. By that time, doctors had run a slew of tests on you. They found several problems that we overlooked in your exams at headquarters."

I suddenly felt my heart beating faster, my stomach turning sour. "Such as?"

"Well, we explained to you that extensive use of the drug Triptocaine could lead to eventual heart and neurological problems. It turns out your heart, as well as areas of your brain, are more heavily damaged than we'd realized."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning your treatment will be a lot trickier than we had intended. Full recovery is not impossible, but there may be damages that will linger after your treatment is complete."

"What kind of damages?"

"Damages to the heart are not easily overcome. You may be restricted to light activity permanently. As for the damages to your brain, you may experience hallucinations and vision defects."

I was stunned into speechlessness. I knew all along there was something wrong with me and I had resisted help. Now I may be physically and mentally handicapped for life.

"Like I said, those are only possibilities. You may make a full recovery. Your case is the only one of its kind so unfortunately we cannot make predictions about the future. All we can do now is give you the treatment and push for a good outcome."

The doctor rambled on for some time afterwards, telling me not to worry, explaining procedures, medications. I barely noticed when he said goodbye and left the room.

My mind was scrambled, my thoughts incoherent. Had I really fallen so far? No matter how they tried to buffer the situation by offering me hope of a full recovery, I knew what to expect. My career was over now. My life would never be the same. I was a living defect, a victim to ARI's cause. I would be forever limited to sitting around while someone waited on me. I couldn't even be sure of what was real and what wasn't. I remembered the voice from the night before, the one I'd heard as I was falling asleep. Was it real? I felt the tears begin to fall, the taste of salt in my mouth as I sobbed quietly.

The nurse showed up again. She asked me something but I ignored her. She disappeared and returned with a syringe. I watched as she pumped it into the IV in my hand. A sudden feeling of warmth and content overcame me. The bombshell that had just been dropped no longer made any difference. I heard her say "That's better," and walk away. She turned the lights all the way down and disappeared again. Left in the dark under a chemical stupor, I closed my eyes and drifted away to a time before the ARI and the Tripto had fucked up my life.


	3. Chapter 3

Two more days of bed rest passed. Since a lot of the physical pain from the withdrawals was gone, my mind returned to the dark thoughts revolving around my last case, around the fact that I had failed and three lives were lost because I wasn't good enough. In addition to my failure, I now had my failing health to think about as well. I was informed by Dr. Taylor that a psychiatrist would be seeing me every day now. Apparently my mini-meltdown and my darkened mood had them worried about my mind.

The psychiatrist, Dr. Preston, talked with me about my problems and how I felt about all that had transpired in the past couple of months. She was a kind old lady with decades of wisdom and experience. The trouble was it was hard for me to believe she truly cared. Along with the other doctors who were "treating me", I felt like a science experiment, an example and reminder of what not to do when the next ARI model was released.

Dr. Taylor stopped by to let me know I was able to leave my room at will "as long as I don't overdo it". He and Janet talked to me in excited voices like I was their child and we were going to get ice cream. I was actually glad I had earned a bit of freedom. The past few days had been lonely and boring. I was somewhat looking forward to walking outside to the courtyard. They kept my room cool and dark at all times. It was their idea of a "low stress environment". I wanted to feel the sun and breathe fresh air.

I showered then pulled on a fresh set of my own clothes, glad to ditch the hospital gown they'd been forcing me to wear. I walked out of my room, half expecting an alarm to go off. It was strange having freedom again.

I passed Janet in the hall on my way to the door. "Remember, take it easy. We won't be far should you need help. Don't be afraid to ask!"

I put on my best fake smile and told her I would go slow. Once outside I felt the cool autumn air hit my skin. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. Despite all the shitty things going on, I felt a sense of calm. I opened my eyes and scanned the area. There were a few people scattered around the courtyard. I tried to make myself look insignificant as I walked over to an area with shade trees and a small pond. Though my time locked in my room had been lonely I didn't feel up to talking to anyone, especially other patients. They would only remind me of how alone I was with my unique addiction and the deterioration it had caused my body, my mind.

A small bridge was built over the pond. I walked to the center and leaned against the railing, peering into the water beneath me. Several koi swam beneath the murky water, their bright red and silver scales glinting in the sunlight.

"So, they turned you loose, huh?"

I looked up, surprised. I hadn't realized anyone was around. Searching the area, I finally found the source of the voice, a woman, sitting beneath a giant oak behind me. She was lovely, with long black hair falling down around her shoulders, contrasting against the white lab coat she was wearing. She was a doctor? She appeared to be so young.

"Uh, yeah…" I muttered dumbly.

"You look like you're feeling better. You were in pretty bad shape the other night."

That voice. It was the voice that had spoken to me the night I had been admitted. I recognized its deep, sultry tone that still managed to maintain a certain sweetness.

"Yeah, I do feel better." I was beginning to feel embarrassed at my inability to talk to her. I was probably about as interesting as the bark on the trees around us.

"Sorry I intruded. Would you like me to leave you alone?"

"No!" I interjected, surprising myself.

She looked a bit taken aback herself, but she smiled. "Would you like to join me?"

"Sure," I said. I walked the distance from the bridge to the oak tree and stood before her. I noticed now she was sitting on a blanket, an empty lunch sack and a book beside her. She looked funny in her white coat, a pretty dress underneath, stretching out on a blanket. This act, along with her strange yet appealing friendliness, made her unlike any doctor I'd known before.

"You can sit down if you'd like."

"Uh…no thanks. I've been lying in bed for four days. I think it would be healthy for me to stand a while."

"Really? Suit yourself then. Oh, I'm Lisha, by the way. Alisha, if you want to be formal. Dr. Lusk if you want to be really formal." She extended her hand. I took it into mine, her skin soft and cool against my warmth.

"I'm Norman."

"Yes, the famous Norman Jayden. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"What do you mean famous?" I asked, suspicious.

"Well, you're the talk of Clear View. There's talk among the professionals, of course. But the patients know something's going on. The private sector likes to keep cases like yours a secret, but they can't keep the rest of the patients from wondering."

I sighed, a frown setting in.

"I didn't mean to upset you…" Lisha said apologetically.

I forced a smile. "It's okay. I'm still not used to being alone on this thing. It's hard for me to accept, you know?"

I started feeling faint all of a sudden. I tried to brace myself, to keep from falling over. The ground seemed to be moving underneath me.

"Are you okay?" Lisha stood up and grabbed my arm, keeping me from toppling over. "Maybe you should sit after all."

"Yeah…"

She helped me sit down on the blanket, and then sat down beside me. "Do you need anything? A glass of water?"

"No, I'll be fine. Feeling better already."

Her hands were still on me, one on my back, one on my arm. As I was coming out of my swooning fit, I felt somewhat intimidated sitting beside her. She was even more beautiful close up. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds, a strange silvery color. I could smell her perfume, sweet and alluring.

I tried to converse my awkward feelings away. "So what do you do here, anyway?"

"I'm a shrink."

"Oh yeah? I'm seeing one of those." I bit my tongue, embarrassed. Great. I've already demonstrated my physical weakness. Did I have to admit I was crazy, too?

She laughed. "Most people here do. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"You were in my room the night I was admitted, weren't you?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you remember. You were very tired," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, well, I'd had a long day."

"You look a lot better now." A gentle smile broke across her lips. I hoped I wasn't blushing.

"Do you usually work nights?" I asked, looking at my shoes.

"No, I was on call that night. They wanted me to stand by until your doctor got there. I usually work days over in the drug and alcohol treatment center."

"So you're new around here?"

"Good guess. How did you know?"

"Well, you seem a lot different from the other doctors I've met. You seem to have a soul."

She laughed loudly. "Yeah, they are kind of robotic, aren't they?"

"I shouldn't complain. They're nice enough."

"That's what you think. I don't get along with a lot of them. They're too impersonal, no sense of humor." Her eyes looked past me and her face grew grim. "Speaking of which, here comes Taylor. I better get going. My lunch was over nearly half an hour ago."

She stood and offered her hand, helping me off the ground. "Do you need help walking back? It's kind of far."

"No, I'll be fine. I feel a lot better now."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I want to stay out a while longer anyway."

"Okay." She gathered up her things then turned back to me. "It was nice meeting you, Norman. Hopefully I'll see you around."

"See you, doctor."

She flashed a grin before she walked away. I saw her sneak past Taylor and disappear into the building. I found myself smiling. It was rare I met a person that intrigued me the way she did. She was so easy to talk to. I felt a connection to her, another rarity. Still smiling, I began the walk across the courtyard back towards the facility, feeling better than I had in years.


	4. Chapter 4

I looked forward to my daily trips to the court yard. Lisha Lusk could always be found taking her lunch under the group of oaks by the koi pond around noon, far enough away to avoid the scrutinizing eyes of her coworkers. She insisted I sit beside her on her tartan blanket. She often brought cookies she said she'd baked herself. I confessed to her I was worried I was intruding on her time by sitting with her each day but she said she was happy to have the company. She explained she'd felt quite lonely since beginning work here nearly a year ago; she didn't get along with her coworkers and the patients were intimidated by her. I was the first to talk to her on a personal basis, she said.

Unfortunately, she was given two days off each week. On these days, I found myself biding my time until she returned the next day. I was a little ashamed of myself for being so pathetic, but it was nice having someone to talk to, someone who seemed to actually care.

The rest of my days were filled with doctors and nurses coming in and out, running tests, delivering medications. Dr. Taylor routinely checked in on me, discussing my test results and claiming that I was making great progress. They were pleased that I seemed to be functioning very well now, that I'd only had a couple of episodes of dizziness since being taken off bed rest which they described as "normal".

Much to my dismay, Vance Crowley, one of the designers of ARI, had also been coming by. He was a strange fellow, who only seemed to be aware of himself and no one else. He looked at me through his black rimmed glasses and asked questions about my problems with the ARI in a dull voice. I got the feeling he viewed me as a nasty bug to be stamped on. I was, after all, the only blight on his perfect creation.

Dr. Preston still saw me on a daily basis as well. I continued to talk to her, feeling like I wasn't really making any progress but pretending I was. She recommended I participate in a group session with the other patients at Clear View since part of my problem had been the addiction. I told her I'd think about it, but had no real intention of going. My total disinterest with Dr. Preston gave me an idea. If I was going to be forced to talk with a shrink, I might as well be getting something out of it. So I found myself walking to Dr. Taylor's office, my question poised, polished and much prepared to deliver.

I knocked on the frosted glass window with Dr. Taylor's name written out in gold letters. "Come in," I heard from inside the office. As I walked through the door, Dr. Taylor looked up from a paper he was writing on and smiled. "Hello, Norman. What brings you here?"

"I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Sure. Go ahead." He set his pen down, his hands then folding on his desk.

"I've been seeing Dr. Preston for a couple of weeks now. While she's a really nice lady, very professional, I feel like I'm not really making any progress."

"Oh? Is there something about her methods you don't like?"

"It's not really her method. I just don't feel like we're connecting."

"I see." He thought to himself for a moment before beginning again. "We recommend you continue speaking to a therapist for your entire stay here. I could always find a replacement for Dr. Preston, if you wish."

"Well, that's what I came to ask you. I was hoping you could arrange for me to talk with Dr. Lusk instead."

His lip curled involuntarily into a momentary display of disgust. "Dr. Lusk is a very young doctor. Her lack of experience is unsuitable to your case."

"I understand that. However, I believe her energy and character are much more suitable in dealing with my case."

"What gives you that idea?"

"Well, no offense to Dr. Preston, but Dr. Lusk is a lot closer to my own age. I feel I can relate to her better."

Dr. Taylor leaned back in his chair, his body rigid. "The idea is not to feel camaraderie with your therapist, Norman. Your therapist will only be able to properly counsel you if a doctor-patient relationship is maintained."

"I'm not asking for a friendship with my doctor. I only want my doctor to really listen when I talk, to really try to understand what I feel. I think Dr. Lusk is most capable of those things."

The doctor sighed gravely. "It's not just her inexperience. Dr. Preston received training to deal with your case specifically."

"Can Dr. Lusk not receive the same training?"

Dr. Taylor stared me down for what seemed like minutes. "I will try to make the changes you've asked for. I'll have to ask Dr. Lusk if she wants to take your case. She may say no."

"That's fine. If she says no I'll continue to see Dr. Preston."

"Assuming she agrees, she will have to receive a few days' training in order to deal with your case properly. She won't become your therapist straight away."

"That's understandable."

"Very well then. I'll speak to her as soon as possible and then I'll inform you of her decision."

"Thank you, doctor." I stood to leave but was caught off guard by a strange smile that had formed on Dr. Taylor's lips.

"She's a beauty, isn't she, Norman?" he said, his eyes focused on his clasped hands, his knuckles white from lack of circulation.

"What?" I muttered, taken aback.

"Dr. Lusk. Don't you find her attractive?"

"I'm not sure what this has to do with anything…" I said. I could feel my skin flushing.

"You want to fuck her, don't you, Norman?"

I stood there speechless looking at Dr. Taylor, his fists balled tight, that creepy snarling grin on his face. A knock on the door broke my concentration. Taylor's face immediately brightened, his hands unclasping, his normal pleasant smile covering up the sickening one. "Come in," he said.

A young nurse poked her head in the door. "Sorry, am I interrupting?"

"No, ma'am Norman was just on his way out." The doctor looked at me, no hint of his strange episode evident now. "Is there anything else?"

"No. Thank you, doctor." I sidled past the nurse, trying to contain my shock.

I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Had that really just happened? I had a bad feeling about Dr. Taylor from the beginning but I never expected anything like this. Feeling embarrassed, I walked quickly to my room, not looking back.


	5. Chapter 5

A day passed before I received word from Dr. Taylor that Lisha had accepted me as her new patient. He told me she would officially become my therapist two days later. He then went on to discuss the usual, continuing to act as if nothing happened. It didn't make sense to me why he would behave so strangely. There was nothing he could gain out of making me feel like a fool. Maybe he was just a pervert, simple as that. Whatever the case, I knew now without a doubt that Taylor was a strange character and I didn't like him.

Since I'd asked for Lisha to be my therapist I hadn't seen her in the courtyard. My mind became burdened once again having no one to talk to. I was dying to talk to her about Taylor, ask her what she knew about him. I waited somewhat impatiently for two days until it was finally time to go to Lisha's office. She'd taken over the office Dr. Preston used to occupy a few doors down from my room. I knocked on the door and waited till she called, "Come in!"

She sat behind the big mahogany desk, her back to the door. She was stooped over, looking for something in a desk drawer. She looked up as I closed the door. "Hello, Norman," she said somewhat stiffly. "Please, be seated over there."

I went to take my normal spot on the couch across the room. I was a bit surprised to find her acting so formal. Of course, I'd assumed she wouldn't be allowed to be as personal as she had been in the past, but I didn't expect this.

She straightened up in her chair and looked at me, fingers laced in her lap. "Let's begin. Shall we pick up where Dr. Preston left off?"

The rest of the session continued much the same. We talked about my drug use and how I was feeling since my recovery had begun nearly three weeks before. I felt awkward talking to her this way; she sat up straight in the leather manager's chair, smiling emptily with a strange serenity seeming to emanate from her. It was as if Dr. Preston had never left the room at all.

Feeling disappointed and insecure, I found myself not wanting to bring up the subject of Taylor and his transgression. I struggled through the session and was glad to go when it was finally over. Dejected, I left her office and walked back to my room. Inside, I was embraced by the shadowy lighting and the coldness. I drew the blinds, obscuring the view of the forest that surrounded Clear View grounds. Sinking into my chair, I buried my face in my hands, wishing I could take it all back and knowing that I couldn't.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I stayed in my room the remainder of the day. It was late at night when I grew tired of moping and decided I'd take a walk. I knew by this time the chance of running into anyone was slim to none. I notified Jennifer, the night nurse, that I was leaving my room as I was required to do. She, being much less invasive than Janet, let me go without asking questions.

The grounds were closed at night to all patients. No one other than staff could get through the thick, electronically locked doors, so I roamed the hallways. At last, I stopped in a common area in the middle of the facility. I fell into a comfy chair and looked around. It was very dark, but I didn't care. There was nothing to see anyway.

It was times like this that I longed to use the ARI again. With ARI anything was possible. I could transform this dark sitting area to a sunny beach, if I desired. Being bored, as I often was, didn't matter so much with ARI. It was a shame something so intriguing, so innovative, had brought me here in the first place.

I was suddenly distracted by a glowing light floating down the hallway. As it came closer, I realized it was someone holding a cell phone out in front of them. I shrank in my chair, wishing to remain unnoticed. My wishes were pointless as the person rounded the corner into the sitting area. The beam of pale light scanned the room then focused on me. "Hey, Norman."

It was Lisha. "Hey," I answered dully.

She came closer, sitting in the chair next to me. "What ya doing sitting out here in the dark?"

"I dunno. I got tired of sitting in my room so I went for a walk." I gave her a sideways glance. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

She looked at me, confused. "New schedule. Since I took over Dr. Preston's post I took over her hours as well."

"I didn't know she stayed here all night," I said, disinterested.

"They didn't tell you she was available to you 24/7?"

"Maybe. My memory of Dr. Taylor's explanation of the rules and procedures is very foggy."

"Well she was. Now I am," she said brightly.

She seemed to be back to herself, acting more like the woman I'd met outside in the court yard than a stuffy therapist. I couldn't restrain myself from asking, "What's with you anyway? I go a few days without seeing you and suddenly you're a different person."

The light went out suddenly as she closed the phone. "Shh." She put a finger to her lips. I started to ask what she was doing but then I heard the approaching footsteps. A male staff member passed by in the hallway, peering into the sitting room as he went. Once he had gone, she turned to me and whispered, "Do you want to go outside? I can't talk to you here."

I was confused by the secrecy. They knew I was out of my room. It wasn't like I was breaking any rules. However, I had wanted to walk outside anyway. "Okay," I answered.

"Follow me," she said. She tiptoed across the waiting room and peered into the hallway. After deciding the coast was clear, she motioned for me to follow. I walked along behind her, somewhat amused by her sneakiness.

She swiped her badge at the back door and we walked out into the court yard. She pulled me aside, out of view of the doorway. "What's going on?" I asked.

"They're watching me," she said, her voice little louder than a whisper.

"Watching you?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Something to do with my recent promotion, I guess," she said with a smile.

"What makes you think they're watching you?"

"Taylor doesn't trust me. He's had my office tapped. I know, because he told me. According to him, it's so he can record our sessions but I know better. You don't wire a whole office for something as simple as that. Plus, some random staff members have been following me around, that guy we saw in the hallway being one of them. I haven't even seen these people working here until I took over Preston's position."

"So, our session today…"

"I was trying to act how I thought Dr. Preston acted. I was told to do so, after all."

I tried to analyze this new information. The incident with Dr. Taylor, Lisha's office being tapped, strange new employees following her around. Something very bizarre was going on.

"Do you know anything about Dr. Taylor? Have you ever noticed anything strange about him?"

She laughed a little. "He's a strange guy. Things have been very different since he started working here. There always seems to be something going on, but no one knows what it is other than his closest cohorts." She looked at me, her silvery eyes glowing in the moonlight. "Why do you ask?"

I hesitated. "The other day when I talked to him…he acted very strangely."

"What did he do?"

"He changed. He changed from his usual phony façade to something much more sinister." I left it at that, realizing I could never tell her what he'd _said._ "You should be careful. There's something I don't like about him."

Her face was grim. She said suddenly, "I'm sorry about today. Unfortunately, it will be like that from now on. I want to talk to you on a deeper level than what's on his program, but he's forbidden me from talking to you outside of the therapy sessions." She paused a moment before continuing. "I think we can find a way—we'll just have to be a little craftier from now on."

I sighed, again wishing I hadn't gone through with this. "I'm sorry I got you into this."

"Don't be sorry. You got me a raise and I get to see you all the time now!" She turned her eyes to the ground, looking embarrassed.

I felt a little warmer despite the autumn chill. The ramifications of my decision to talk to Taylor and the strange proceedings were for a moment insignificant.

She looked up, her eyes meeting mine again. "We should probably go back. They're probably already looking for both of us."

After making sure the coast was clear, we both reentered the facility. Lisha looked around then hastily whispered, "I've got some ideas. I'll find an excuse to talk to you outside the office tomorrow." We heard footsteps approaching down the hallway. Hastily, she said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Lisha."

She mouthed "Goodnight," then disappeared around the corner. The man who she'd said was following her came down the hallway moments later. He stopped when he saw me. "What are you doing out of your room?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Just taking a walk. Ask Jennifer over there." I pointed at the nurses' station barely visible at the end of the hallway. He muttered something under his breath then continued on, rounding the corner, staying on Lisha's trail.


	6. Chapter 6

I spent most of the night and the following morning thinking about the strange things going on in Clear View. For some reason, Taylor was monitoring my sessions with Lisha, which was understandable. However, the fact that he was asking her to act like somebody else didn't make sense. He didn't like her personality, her methods, and that was fine—he could ask her to tone them back a bit. But the act of asking her to _be_ someone else during her time with me was peculiar. Then there was the fellow that was following her around, keeping tabs. All of these things had filled me with unease. I was going to have to investigate.

My schedule for the morning was unusually busy. They'd informed me Crowley would come by soon. Then I had to go straight to Lisha's office for my session with her. After that, I was to report to Taylor's office. I wasn't looking forward to any of it.

There was a knock on my door minutes later. I yelled "Come in" and Vance Crowley appeared in the doorway, a familiar looking leather case in his hand.

"Hello, Norman," he said, his voice devoid of emotion as always.

"Vance."

"I want to try something today." He set the small leather case on a table, unlatching the gold fastener on the front. The contents of the case became visible as he raised the lid and I saw what I feared lay inside. The smooth black lenses, the lone leather glove.

"Why'd you bring that here?" I asked, angry in spite of my longing.

"Just put the glasses on," he said, holding them out to me.

"Are you nuts? What's the point in coming here to recover if you're going to make me wear those damned things again?"

"Put on the glasses, and you'll find out," he said as he smiled, something very uncharacteristic of Crowley.

I wanted to resist but I found myself drawing closer, reaching out to grab them. I'd so longed to use them since I gave them up. Now was my chance. It couldn't hurt if it was just for a few minutes. The treatment center wouldn't have allowed it if it was harmful, right?

I took them from his hand and tentatively put them on. I slid the leather glove on my hand. My room at Clear View disappeared and was replaced by someplace dark and rainy outside of what looked like an old warehouse. My stomach turned as I suddenly recognized where I was. Though I'd never actually been there, I knew it was the place little Shaun Mars had been left to drown. Ethan Mars had saved his son, but Ethan was gunned down outside of the warehouse by a gang of policemen led by none other than Carter Blake and Leighton Perry. The real origami killer had escaped to god knows where.

"Keep going." It was Vance's voice; he'd disappeared but I could hear his voice.

I did as I was told and began to walk forward toward the warehouse. I pulled open a rusty door and walked inside. The light was dim, the air musty. I wondered what I should be doing. I heard a sudden scream. I couldn't see her, but I knew it was Lisha.

I began running. I didn't know where she was but I had to find her. I saw a drain up ahead, a hand sticking out through the bars that were enclosing it.

"Help! Please, Norman!" she screamed.

I ran over to the drain and looked down to see her head bobbing above the rising water, her arm still outstretched, reaching through the metal bars. Rain began to pour into the warehouse, heavy, pounding rain, beating me down, making it hard for me to see. _How could it be raining inside? _It doesn't matter. I've got to get her out of there.

"I'll get you out!" I screamed over the roar of the rain. I searched around for something to pry open the grate. I found a crow bar a few feet away. Rushing back over to the drain, I put the crowbar underneath the grate, pulling with all my might. The grate popped off and I slung it aside. I looked down into the water-filled drain and I couldn't see her. She was gone. I reached down into the water, feeling around for her, but I couldn't feel anything.

A sickening laughter filled the room, booming over the rain. I looked up to see Taylor, his henchman, and Crowley standing there. Lisha was limp in Taylor's arms, his hands forcing her head up. She stared at me, fear in her eyes.

"You're too late, Norman. You're always too late," Taylor said, that hideous snarling grin on his lips. He twisted Lisha's head, snapping her neck. Her lifeless body fell to the floor.

I lost control, rage blinding me. I lunged forward at Taylor and his two laughing companions but fell short. They vanished before me, leaving Lisha's body behind. I crawled over to her body. I pulled her into my arms, pushing back the thick wet sheets of hair stuck to her face. I looked at her; she was still beautiful, even in death. I hugged her body to mine, tears welling in my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry…I…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I awoke in a bright room. There were people dressed in white shuffling all around me, their voices frantic. "He's awake!" one of them cried out.

"Norman, can you hear me?" It was Dr. Taylor standing over me. I tried to lunge at him but I found I'd been tied down to the bed. "You've suffered an epileptic seizure. We've got doctors looking at you now. Remain calm."

I quit straining against the bands that were holding me and fell back against my bed. What just happened? It was so real. Where was Crowley? This was all his fault. He brought the ARI back to me.

"Where's Crowley?" I demanded.

"Crowley?" Taylor asked. "I don't know. He wasn't scheduled to see you today."

"He was just here! He gave me the glasses!"

Taylor looked at me pitifully. He mumbled something to a nurse beside him. She walked away and came back with a syringe.

"No! You will not drug me again! Let me out of here!" I screamed. It was no use struggling against the restraints. The nurse stuck the needle into my arm and I felt calm spreading through my body. I felt sleepy. My eyes were closing.

"Just relax. You'll feel better when you wake up."


	7. Chapter 7

_ Thanks for all the interest in this story and special thanks for the reviews. As you may have noticed by now, the plot is evolving as I write so bare with me. I hope you enjoy! All reviews are deeply treasured! :D_

They kept me under observation for the rest of the day. When they decided I was stable again, Dr. Taylor came back in to talk with me.

"Feeling better, Norman? You gave us all quite a scare."

"Sure," I answered dully. The hatred I felt for him still burned inside me, even though I knew the murder he'd committed had only been imaginary.

"Do you understand what happened?"

"Janet came into my room this morning and found me convulsing on the floor. I was taken to the infirmary where it was determined that I was suffering from a fit of epilepsy."

Taylor shook his head in agreement. In silence, he watched me stare at my window, the curtains drawn. After some time he cleared his throat and said, "Well, I'd best be going. Do you have any questions?"

"When can I see Dr. Lusk?"

He cleared his throat again and took a moment to ponder his answer. "I suppose you could see her now, if you'd like."

"That would be nice."

He left the room and returned minutes later with Lisha. "Dr. Lusk is here to speak with you," Taylor said. "I'll be leaving now."

The door closed with a quiet thud and there was the sound of retreating footsteps in the hallway. Lisha sat down in the chair left vacant by Taylor. She looked me over in silence for a few moments before she spoke.

"How are you holding up?"

I continued looking at the drawn curtains. I didn't have the courage to look her in the face, afraid I might see that look in her eyes she'd shown just before she'd died. "Well enough, I suppose."

She inched closer to me. "What's on your mind?"

I shot her a sideways glance. "I don't like it here. Something bizarre is going on."

"What do you mean? Are you thinking about the guy following me?"

"There's that. There's Taylor and his weird behavior, his hidden motives. Then there's what happened today. I don't care what they say—I know Crowley was here. He gave me the glasses. He forced me to put them on, and then I saw…" I broke off, unable to finish.

"Saw what?"

"Nothing. Forget about it."

"What's troubling you?" She moved closer again, trying to put herself in front of me so I would look at her. I turned my eyes to the floor, evading her questioning gaze.

"It's nothing, okay?"

"You can talk to me, Norman, you know that," she said, placing a hand on my thigh.

I jumped up out of my chair, the sudden movement causing it to topple backwards. "I said forget about it!" I screamed in anger. Looking at her now, I saw the hurt clouding her eyes. She shrank away as if she was afraid I'd lunge at her next. My anger faded, allowing me to come to my senses. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said, forcing a smile.

I stooped down to set the chair upright, embarrassed and ashamed by my outburst. As I stood up, a sudden ringing filled my ears and a sharp pain exploded in my head. I could feel the shakes coming on, a familiar feeling though I hadn't experienced it for weeks now. I stumbled backwards toward my bed, falling over.

"Norman, what's wrong?" Lisha asked, immediately at my side.

"I don't know. I feel like the withdrawals are back." I held my hands out in front of me, watching them tremble uncontrollably.

"Do you want me to go get the nurse?"

"No. Just stay here with me. It'll pass soon. I just think I got too excited."

"Here, lie back and relax," she said, patting my pillow.

I did as she commanded. I closed my eyes, willing away the shakes that had consumed my body. I felt her fingers on my neck checking my pulse. She must have decided I was okay because she sat on the bed beside me. She began running her fingers through my hair and humming a soothing tune unfamiliar to me. I felt my pulse slowing, the throbbing in my head fading and my shaking body becoming still.

When I opened my eyes, I found her watching me intently. A warm smile crossed her lips. "Better?"

"Much," I said peacefully. Though the shaking from the withdrawal had stopped, I felt myself quivering at her touch, intimidated by how close she was.

"You're still shaking," she said, a frown on her face.

"Yeah," I said, embarrassed that she'd noticed. I felt my face flushing. She seemed to pick up on this and she turned her head, hiding a small smile. Withdrawing her hand, she folded them in her lap.

I sat up beside her. After a few moments in an awkward silence, I spoke up.

"Look, I really am sorry about my outburst a moment ago. That sort of behavior is not typical of me. I've just had a rough day and—"

"You don't have to apologize. I understand," she said, brushing a piece of glossy black hair behind her ear.

"I don't like what's going on here. I feel powerless in everything that's happening to me. It's like I'm the subject of some kind of cruel experiment. And then something like today happens and I begin questioning whether I'm even sane anymore."

She looked to me, her lips pursing, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought. "I'm not sure what to say. I'd like to think I'm being followed because I'm the newbie, that Taylor is just a creep, and that maybe your seeing Crowley here was just part of the seizure, but then I'd be lying to myself and to you." Her expression softened and she said with a smile, "Whatever the case, my professional opinion is that you are not insane."

I laughed a little. "Well, that's good to know." Suddenly, I felt her body stiffen beside me. She looked around behind her at the door to my room. My eyes instinctively looked to the floor; the light shining in under the door was blacked out. Someone was standing outside.

"There's always someone listening," she said grimly. We continued to watch the doorway until the eavesdropper left. She turned around and said in a lower tone of voice, "Remember how I said I had some ideas?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I figured we'd try one out tomorrow."

"What's the plan?"

"I'm supposed to leave tomorrow after our session and have the rest of the day off. As far as I know, no one is following me once I'm off the clock, so if I can meet you after work, we'll avoid all eavesdroppers."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Just be in the courtyard tomorrow around two and you'll find out."

I looked at her dubiously. "You're not going to give me anything else to go on?"

"It'll ruin the surprise!" she said, grinning.

I couldn't help but smile myself. "So you really want to do this? You're not worried about risking your job?"

"Yep! Except there's not much risk involved. They don't care about me enough to see what I'm doing outside of work so I'm positive I won't get caught."

"What about me?"

"You either. I know the protocol. They won't start looking unless thirty minutes or more have passed. We won't have loads of time but it's a start."

"Okay. Court yard, two o'clock."

She stood up. "I better go before the oppressor returns." She walked to the door and opened it. In a rather loud and official voice she said, "I'll see you in my office in the morning, Mr. Jayden."

"See you, Dr. Lusk," I said with a smile.

Once she was gone, I was left to wonder what she was planning to do the next day. I couldn't imagine how she would get me away from the courtyard without anyone noticing. I tried to think of what she was up to, anxious for tomorrow to come and glad my mind, for once, was clear of conspiracies and nightmares.


	8. Chapter 8

I stepped into the courtyard around two o'clock. Since my "seizure" the day before, Clear View staff had been following me a little more closely. Nurse Janet was reluctant to let me go, but after a bit of clever convincing, she finally agreed. I glanced at my watch. 2:09—I was running late.

I wandered around clueless, unsure of what I should be looking for. Though I'd thought about what Lisha had planned for most of the night, I had come up with nothing. Security was very tight at Clear View—she couldn't exactly make it back here without anyone noticing. On the other hand, maybe she could. She was a doctor here after all with clearance to the entire facility. I looked at my watch again. 2:16—had that much time already passed? I began feeling anxious, worried I had come too late.

There was shouting up by the volleyball net near the building. I watched as a ball went rolling past my feet towards the forest. "Hey, pal! Could you toss that ball over here?" I looked over to the net; a thin fellow wearing a bandanna was looking at me expectantly.

I walked over to the forest's edge and retrieved the ball. As I began to walk back towards the net, I heard "Psst!" come from behind me. I looked towards the trees and saw Lisha partially hidden behind a tall birch. I stared into the trees, trying to convince myself that she was really there. "Hey! You gonna throw the ball back or what?" the guy with the bandanna shouted. She mouthed _go on _so I turned around and threw the ball. It fell to the ground several yards away from the net, coming up pitifully short. "Thanks," the guy yelled out sarcastically. I heard laughter from the group at the net but it made no difference. I looked back into the trees and saw her still standing there, smiling excitedly.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching me, I walked casually into the forest. "I thought you were never going to find me!" she said.

"I probably wouldn't have if it weren't for that stray volleyball. How was I supposed to know you were in the forest?"

"Where else would I be?" she asked as if hiding in the forest wasn't strange at all.

Despite my perplexed state, I couldn't help but laugh. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're a little odd."

"Why, thank you," she said, amused.

"How did you get here?"

"I hiked. I live on the other side of this forest, you see. It took a bit longer than I expected, but I made it." Upon closer inspection, I noticed she was a bit red in the face, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. She was dressed casually; her usual coat, dress and heels were replaced by a long sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. Her normally long, flowing hair had been braided into a neat ponytail. Despite having just hiked a long way, she looked stunning.

I felt a bit ashamed yet deeply flattered that she'd come all that way just to give me a chance to talk with no strings attached. This act made me realize just how serious she was in her attempt to help me.

"You didn't have to go hiking through a whole forest just to talk to me."

"Eh, it was nothing. I needed some exercise anyway." She looked over her shoulder. "And on that note, let's head back that way. We're a bit too close to the forest's edge."

We walked a few feet into the forest. I looked around at the bright yellow and orange leaves that hung on the giant trees like glossy ornaments. There was an environment that looked just like this on the ARI. It gave me the feeling I was visiting some place very familiar that I hadn't been to in a long time.

Lisha stopped in a small clearing. "I think this should be far enough," she said, looking around. Her eyes stopped on me. "You okay? You look a little uneasy."

"Yeah." I hesitated to elaborate but she stared at me until I started talking again. "It's just that this forest reminds me of the ARI. One of the office environments I used looked just like this. I'm having to convince myself I'm in reality."

"Does being here make you very uncomfortable? We could cancel today and I'll think of something else…"

"No, it's fine. It just never occurred to me that I was surrounded by a physical representation of what I knew so well in virtual reality."

She walked over to a rather large boulder. As she sat down she motioned for me to join her. "Sorry it's not as comfortable as the couch in the office but I think it'll do for now." As I sat down, she turned her body so that she was facing me. "I've learned a thing or two about you in our short time together but there are details I'm missing. They're not covered in your file, so I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything."

I smirked. "Everything?"

"Well, for the sake of time, we should probably just hit the highlights up until your involvement with ARI began. It's up to you, of course, how much you tell me. But don't feel like you have to hold back." She pulled out an imaginary pen and began taking notes on an imaginary notepad, a mimicry of what she did in our office sessions.

Shaking my head and failing to conceal a smile, I said, "I was born in Boston, Mass. My childhood was quite normal up until my parents' divorce when I was twelve. From there I split time between both parents but ended up staying with my mother permanently when my father left state for a job opportunity—I didn't see or hear from him much after that. I grew up, finished high school at the top of my class and went on to college where I majored in psychology. Thinking back on my fondness of detective novels as a kid, I soon gave thought to joining the FBI. With a bit of grooming, I was eligible to join a few years after college and so I did."

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked, not looking up from her imaginary notepad.

I was a bit thrown off by the question. "Once maybe. I don't know. I dated a girl in sophomore year. She ended up with somebody else."

Her imaginary pen scribbled furiously. "So you joined the FBI. Then what?"

"Well…I spent a fair share of time as a rookie investigator before they cut me loose. Even then, I worked with a partner from time to time but I spent the majority of my time alone."

"One question before we get to ARI. Just out of curiosity, how did you get that scar?" her eyes gazed at the thin pink slice on my cheek.

"I was sent to track down some ex-con with my partner…Maloney, I think it was at the time. The con found me first, dug a knife into my cheek while he threatened to cut my throat. Maloney ended up shooting him. That was my first time witnessing a death."

She gazed at me thoughtfully. "How long has it been?"

I shrugged. "A couple of years. Shortly after that accident, the test model of ARI was being released and I was selected to participate in the trial run. They said they wanted to take me in a different direction within the bureau—said I would be a perfect candidate to use the ARI. Boy, were they ever wrong…"

"What was it like?"

"The ARI? It was amazing. There was the functional side of it that allowed me to gather evidence, keep files, plot points of interest on the map. I was working faster and more efficiently than I ever had. It gave me loads of confidence and my superiors were so pleased. It also had recreational purposes, games if you were bored, the ability to create a virtual world so vivid, so spotless and intriguing that you'd much rather spend your time there than in reality. And that's where the trouble began. Soon I noticed feeling kind of groggy after using ARI. The real world started feeling less real, like I was in a haze. Then the headaches began, the shaking, the blurred vision, the cold sweats, the nosebleeds. I brought it up to the ARI project managers and their solution was Triptocaine. They said it would take away the negative side effects. Foolishly, I took the drug with little thought as to what side effects it might cause. The whole thing started spiraling out of control. My existence depended on the two evils—I wanted to stop but I couldn't. Knowing the Triptocaine was causing my body serious harm, I decided it was the greatest threat and I tried nixing it first. By the time I was assigned the origami killer case, I was at an extreme low. The withdrawals were so bad it made it hard to work. I never should have taken that case. Three innocent people might still be alive. Now I can't live with what I've done."

I couldn't say any more. I tried to hide the fact that I'd started crying as the events of the case that had cost me my career and my sanity came back, still painfully fresh in my mind.

Lisha's arms were suddenly around me. I felt my sobs becoming harder despite my embarrassment. "I'm sorry," I said through tears.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," she said. Her fingers were in my hair again, creating the same calming effect they had the last time.

Selfishly, I let her hold me a while before pulling myself away. I wiped at my eyes and tried to pull myself together. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For listening. For comforting me."

She laughed a little. "Well, you looked like you needed a hug. If you wanted professionalism from your therapist I guess you've come to the wrong place."

"It was nice though, really," I said. I sighed and looked up at the brightly colored that blotted out the sky. "I've always thought I was getting along fine by myself. Guess I need human contact after all."

"It tends to help if you have someone you can talk to," she said with a smile. "This is the first step in what's probably going to be a long and painful process. It'll be worth it in the end though." She looked down at her watch and she grimaced. "Unfortunately our time is already up. We better get you back before they send out a search party."

We walked back to the forest's edge. I looked out into the courtyard and was relieved to see no one searching for me yet. I turned back to Lisha. "You know, I've been thinking about something."

"What is it?" she asked, her interest piqued.

"I think I know a way we can see each other outside of Clear View without getting caught."

"Enlighten me."

"Well, they told me when I signed up that I could leave the grounds for a couple of hours as long as I was accompanied by a member of staff."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm special, you see."

She giggled. "Well, that sounds a lot better than hiding out in the forest for thirty minutes."

"I didn't want to ask you before—I was afraid it might weird you out."

"Why would it weird me out?"

"Uh…" I hesitated, her diamond eyes making me nervous. "…if you took it to mean that I was asking you out on a date or something…"

"Are you?"

"Well…not necessarily…"

Her lips had curled into a devious smile, my awkwardness obviously amusing her. "When are we going?"

"Anytime you want."

"How about tomorrow night?"

I was surprised by her enthusiasm. "Uh…yeah. That would be great."

"Tomorrow night then. What should I wear?"


	9. Chapter 9

Pacing nervously in the lobby, I stared intermittently out the front door at the empty driveway. Lisha would be here any minute now. My heart was beating rather rapidly. Feeling dizzy, I sat down in one of the armchairs lining the wall.

Not only was the prospect of going into the world outside Clear View daunting, but I was also facing the first date I'd had in quite some time. Not to mention Taylor was wary of my leaving the facility. Like a child, I'd had to ask permission. At first he was only mildly interested in my request—that was until I mentioned who I wanted my accomplice to be. As usual, antipathy burned in his eyes, the involuntary snarl of disgust curling his lips so briefly it would go unnoticed if someone wasn't looking for it. He'd asked where I wanted to go. I lied and said I was going to the bookstore in the town nearby. When he'd finally agreed, the look on his face had changed from contempt to satisfaction. "Have fun. Oh, and tell Dr. Lusk I want to see her in my office before you go." I left his office trying not to think of what it meant.

The purr of an engine drew my attention back to the driveway. A slick black Volvo came to a stop outside the front door. Lisha stepped out from the driver's side, the wind catching her hair dramatically. As she closed the car door and headed my way I had to remind myself to breathe; she was too beautiful. I snapped out of my stupor and held the door open for her.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, smiling apologetically.

" You're just on time." I found myself staring again. She was immaculately dressed like always, her glossy black hair cascading down around her shoulders. I glanced at myself beside her in the reflection of a darkened window and felt a little embarrassed. We didn't look like we belonged together. The clothes I'd packed to take to the center didn't include anything date worthy, and, because of the weight I'd lost prior to my admission, they were all a little too big.

Lisha turned around to see what I was looking at. Her eyes met mine in the reflection. "We look good!"

I turned to face her. "You look good. I could use a little work."

Looking into my eyes, she said, "You're perfect."

Feeling myself starting to blush, I turned and looked down the hallway towards Taylor's office. "Taylor wants to talk to you before we go. He seemed a little upset that you were coming with me."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "It's bad enough I have to see him at work. Do I really have to talk to him outside of work too?"

Concealing a grin, I said, "Not if it were up to me."

She started walking gloomily towards Taylor's office. "Just wait right here. Hopefully it won't be too long."

I watched as she knocked on his door then disappeared into his office. The minutes ticked away slowly. I wished I could hear what was going on in there. The feeling I got from Taylor was altogether bad. It seemed like he had some kind of hidden agenda and the things he did just didn't make sense. I honestly believed that he had it out for Lisha as well. That snarl of satisfaction on his lips as he'd asked to talk with her said it all.

Lisha reappeared several minutes later wearing a stony expression. Faking a smile, Taylor waved at me before slamming the door shut. She walked past me towards the front door, her pace quick and steady. "Let's go," she said emptily.

I followed after her and we got into her car without another word being said. She cranked the car, threw it into gear and sped away. I looked over at her; the stony expression she bore moments earlier had now contorted into anger and sadness.

"What's wrong?" I asked gently.

"Nothing. Taylor's a dick is all."

I hesitated before asking, "What did he say?"

"He just wanted to remind me of how unprofessional I am and that I will be receiving some form of disciplinary action upon returning to work tomorrow."

I sighed heavily. "This was a bad idea. I should have known there would be consequences."

One hand left the steering wheel and found mine resting on my lap. "No, it's not a bad idea. I'll take whatever punishment he can throw at me—that doesn't matter. I just hate that he gets the best of me every time."

The thought of what kind of "disciplinary action" Taylor might have in mind for her deeply worried me. He didn't have the right to punish her in the first place. She hadn't violated any rules. "Maybe if I talk to him…"

"It will only make things worse. He's already weird about the relationship between you and I. If he suspects we're spending time together outside of that office he'll only become angrier."

Bitterly, I said, "Something tells me it's not what's best for me that he's got in mind."

"What do you mean?"

"He keeps watch over you at all times. I don't like the face he makes when I mention your name. It's like he's repressing some kind of malevolent thought. I think he's violent and controlling and I wish there was some way you didn't have to deal with him anymore."

She pondered what I said for a few moments before speaking. "Taylor is an asshole, no doubt about it. I don't think he's capable of harming anyone though. He's monitored pretty closely himself. Even if he wanted to do something, I don't think he'd get away with it and he has to know he'd lose his career." She paused and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "What gives you these ideas anyway?"

I shrugged. "Before I resigned it was my job to profile people. The way Taylor behaves, the things he's done before my eyes and tried to brush it off like it hadn't happened, they all point to one truth in my mind—he's dangerous."

Shaking her head, Lisha said, "Well, whether Taylor is a psychopath or not I didn't mean for us to talk about him the entire time we're out. Let's talk about something else."

xxxxxxxxxx

We went to a coffee house in a small town at the foot of the mountain. The warmth inside was a break from the cool winter air and the frigid temperatures inside my room at Clear View. We chose a small table in the corner by a fireplace. Lisha looked lovely sipping from her coffee cup in the firelight. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe it was her relaxing nature, but I soon found myself rid of my nervousness.

We talked like we were two normal people having just met and pretended for this one night that we didn't have any troubles outside of that coffee shop. I felt good for once, like I wasn't some reject with a drug addiction and loads of baggage. Before I knew it, our time was up and it seemed like it was too soon. As we pulled on our coats and prepared to reenter the wintery weather, I mentally cursed my curfew and dreaded going back to Clear View.

"Well, that was nice," Lisha said once we were out on the street.

"Yeah, it was. I forgot how soothing coffee could be. Your company didn't hurt either."

Grinning, she linked her arm with mine. "What do you say we run away together?"

"You wouldn't have to do much convincing."

"Will this do?" She kissed me softly on the lips. This unexpected gesture caught me off guard and I stared unbelieving into her crystal eyes. Not able to resist, I pulled her in, wrapping her in my arms, kissing her with all the longing I'd built up since the first time we'd met. As our lips parted she looked at me, smiling. "Wow."

"Sorry…"

"Don't be. I've been waiting for this moment." She was leaning in, her lips inches from mine when she stopped suddenly, staring across the street with fearful eyes. Leaning against a black car was the guy from Clear View that had been following Lisha around. He put out his cigarette on the palm of his hand. Never taking his eyes off of us, he got into his car and sped away.

"It's that guy." Lisha said, blankly staring at the place his car had just been.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," I said, taking her arm and guiding her away.

We began the drive back up the mountain. Since Lisha was still shaken by the sudden appearance of her stalker, I drove. Taylor had no doubt sent him to spy on us. He was probably on his way now to report what he'd seen.

"He's never followed me outside of Clear View…"

"It's going to be alright. Let's just get back to the center," I said calmly.

There was a bright pair of headlights in the rearview mirror. I flipped the tab, dimming the blinding light, but in the side view mirror I saw them getting closer. With a revving engine, a black car sped past us. My heart pounding in my chest, I calmed a little as the tail lights of the black car became smaller in the distance and disappeared.

I looked over at Lisha. Her eyes were closed, her body limp in the seat. "Are you okay?" I said, touching her arm. I was suddenly blinded by a light in front of the vehicle. The black car was barreling down the road, coming straight at us.

I couldn't think amidst the sounds of screeching tires, the blaring car horn, and the intense light. There was nowhere to go. I jerked the wheel to the right, sending us crashing into the barricade. As the car spun, I felt myself losing consciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

_ I can't see anything…I can't feel anything…where am I?_

Two voices, both familiar, permeated the darkness.

_ "…you've ruined everything. This project we've been working on, the details we've pored over for months means nothing now. I can't believe your selfishness."_

_ "This is not about being selfish. This is about doing the right thing."_

_ "Heh…if it was about the "doing the right thing" you wouldn't have chosen this path to begin with."_

_ "You know I never had a choice."_

_ "Oh, you had a choice—but, like always, you had to get involved much more than was needed. You're stupid and selfish and I'm going to make sure they know this is all on you."_

_ "That's fine. I want no part of it anymore."_

_ "That's not up to you. They will decide what you will do and you're not going to get your way this time. I'll see to that." _

XXXXXXXXXX

"Augh!" I felt a sharp pain stinging in my arm. My eyes fluttered open and I felt another wave of pain. Janet was standing before me, a syringe in her hand.

"Oh, you're awake."

Lisha. The car. All I could remember were the bright lights, the car spinning out of my control. I tried to sit up but I was held down by restraints. It was then I noticed my bed had been replaced with a gurney. "What the hell's going on?"

"Just relax, dear. Dr. Taylor will be in shortly to discuss things with you."

"I don't want to talk to Dr. Taylor. I want you to talk to me."

Janet forced a smile. "Okay. What would you like to talk about?"

"Li—Dr. Lusk. Where is she?"

"I suspect she's in her office."

"She's okay?"

"I don't know why she wouldn't be."

"But, the car wreck. She was unconscious just before we crashed."

Janet looked at me pitifully. "I think you're confused, dear. You'd better talk to Dr. Taylor."

"What do you mean confused? There was a car coming straight at us. I swerved out of the way but I lost consciousness."

She shook her head, her forced smile fading. "There wasn't any car wreck, dear. You've been here the whole time." I was becoming angry. I could feel my pulse rising, the force of my beating heart sending pain through my chest. "Just calm down. I'll tell Dr. Taylor you're awake and he'll be in to explain everything in just a moment."

"Sure," I said irritably. I couldn't understand it. The pain I felt in my body couldn't have come from anything else. Why were they trying to pretend it hadn't happened? Maybe Janet was confused—it was the only answer.

Taylor came in a few minutes later and sat in a chair beside the hospital gurney I'd been strapped to. "Hello, Norman. How are you feeling?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic. Now quit with the bullshit and tell me what's going on."

Taylor smiled insincerely. "There's no need for hostility, Norman."

I took a breath and said, "I would like to know why I'm being treated like an insane person, please."

"You've been restrained because you've been suffering from a series of seizures."

"Why am I in so much pain, then?"

"You fell down some stairs yesterday when you started seizing. You weren't hurt but some soreness is to be expected."

"So you're going to tell me I wasn't in a car wreck yesterday."

"Hallucinations are common with epileptic seizures. However, I can assure you that you were not actually in a car wreck yesterday."

I laughed, unbelieving. "Okay, prove it. Janet said Dr. Lusk was in her office. Let me see her. She was with me—she'll be bruised up too."

"Very well."

Taylor walked over to the phone and dialed a couple of numbers. "Dr. Lusk, can you come to Mr. Jayden's room, please?" He hung up the phone and then sat back in his chair, saying nothing until Lisha arrived.

She entered the room, taking her place by Taylor at my bedside. She showed no signs of being in a car wreck recently—no bruises, no cuts, no stiffness. "I'm glad to see you've awoken, Norman," she said somewhat robotically.

Taylor whispered quietly, although not inaudibly to Lisha, saying, "Mr. Jayden is somewhat disoriented. He seems to think he was in a car wreck yesterday evening and that you were also involved."

She looked to me, her silvery eyes duller than usual. "How can I help you, Norman?"

"The wreck. You remember! That guy outside the coffee shop. We got in the car to come back to the center and somebody was chasing us."

She shook her head, much like Janet, that look of pity in her eyes. "Norman, sometimes the hallucinations seizure sufferers experience are very vivid. They can seem like reality…"

"Your car. Show me your car. If it wasn't real then it won't be wrecked."

She looked back at Taylor and he nodded. Together they wheeled my bed over to the window. "It's parked there in the lot beneath your window," she said.

I strained my eyes, looking at the rows of cars parked beneath me. I saw it, the black Volvo, parked in the center row, gleaming in perfect condition. My heart sank, disbelief clouding my mind. "I don't understand."

"It's okay. This kind of thing happens. We can discuss it further in our session, if you'd like."

After they wheeled my bed back into its original position, Taylor turned to Lisha, and said, "If you'll excuse us, I need to talk to Norman alone for a moment."

Lisha nodded. It looked like there were tears in her eyes. "Sure," she said dully, and she left the room.

Once she was gone, Taylor said, "Look, Norman, we warned in the beginning of your treatment here that there may be permanent damages to your brain and heart. It appeared at first that you were recovering but these recent seizures may be pointing to some backsliding in your progress."

I blinked back tears. "I'm not crazy. You're plotting something. You've got everybody working for you, even Alisha."

He snickered a little. "I'm not saying you're crazy, _Norman_. I'm just saying you're brain damaged. Think whatever you like." He left the room, the door slamming behind him.

"I'm not insane…" I whispered to myself. There were some things I couldn't make sense of, like the repaired car and Lisha's uninjured appearance, but I knew there had to be some explanation. She couldn't admit to me that she was there, Taylor had her under his control now. Without her, I was alone on figuring this one out. Whatever the case, I was going to have to figure it out fast. With the way things were going, I wouldn't be around much longer if I didn't.

As Janet reentered the room carrying another syringe, I lay back on the uncomfortable gurney, awaiting the chemical coma I was undoubtedly about to receive.


	11. Chapter 11

The slamming of a door jarred me out of sleep. Vance Crowley entered the room, the familiar leather pouch clearly visible in his hand. "No…" I uttered weakly. I fought against the restraints that were pinning me down to the bed, the leather cutting into my skin.

"Hello, Norman. I want to try something today…" he said.

"No, you're not here. This isn't real…"

He leaned over me, sliding the ARI over my eyes. "Just relax. Everything will be fine."

I fought to keep my eyes shut, but the clear ringing of a lovely voice caught my attention. "Norman!"

I opened my eyes to find I was standing in a flowery meadow. The sun shone brightly and the sky was a clear blue. A gentle wind picked up, infusing the air with the scent of flowers. Lisha stood before me wearing a pretty sun dress, her dark hair dancing in the breeze. She motioned for me to come to her so I walked the length of the field until I was by her side.

She didn't look at me as I stood beside her but stared into the distance, a smile of contentment gracing her lips. She spoke to me suddenly, maintaining her distant gaze. "I'm glad you're here."

"Where are we?"

"Some place special. They can't find us here."

"But how did we come here?"

"That doesn't matter now. Just know that you are safe."

Smiling, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. It felt good to be standing by her side in this peaceful meadow. However, I was suddenly reminded of something terrible. I knew I wasn't really in this place. I was only experiencing the delusions of ARI. When I opened my eyes, Lisha was gone and the meadow was suddenly dark, the sky cloudy with the coming of a storm. Lightning cracked in the sky and a chilling rain began to pour. I wrapped my arms around my chest and began walking. The stormy meadow seemed to stretch on forever. After walking for what seemed like hours, I saw a building in the distance. I broke into a run, anxious to get out of the cold rain. There was a door on the side of the building. I tried the knob and it turned with ease, allowing me inside.

It was dark inside the building. I couldn't make out any details. Feeling around clumsily in the dark, I found a wall and followed it until I found a light switch. Nauseating green lights flickered on above me one by one down the length of the hallway. As they lit up the corridor, I realized I was back at Clear View. A sickening feeling broiled in my stomach. I walked along the empty green-lit hallways until I found the door to my room. I stopped dead in my tracks as the door swung open and revealed a gruesome sight. On my bed lay Alisha, her body sawed apart and brutalized. Feeling the urge to vomit, I covered my mouth and turned away only to meet Taylor's thug. He hit me on the head with some sort of club. I reeled from the head trauma and fell to the floor. My sight was hazy as the thug stood over me. Taylor appeared next to him, smiling in that appalling way.

"Do the same to him," he said to thug.

As Taylor's henchman dragged me across the room, I heard a saw revving up in the background. The thug dropped me and when he reappeared he had the saw in hand. The spinning blade came closer and closer to my stomach. I tried to get away but I found myself paralyzed. I closed my eyes, my screams drowning out the sound of the roaring saw.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I started awake and found myself in my room, still strapped to my bed. I'd been tortured by nightmares like that over and over again for the past few days. I had no idea how long it had been now since I woke up after the wreck. The only person I'd seen was Janet who routinely delivered food and sedatives. The clock had been removed from my room and the windows were heavily curtained so that I couldn't even see the light of day. If I wasn't crazy already I felt I would be very soon.

I wanted to stretch so desperately. My body ached from lying still so long. As I flexed my arms, I found to my surprise that the straps flopped loosely. I raised my arms and they fell off. I tried sitting up and found I was able to. Someone had set me free.

I swung my stiff legs over the side of the gurney and stood up. My legs wobbled under my weight and I grabbed at the gurney to keep from falling over. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside my room. I hobbled to the other side of the room and hid in the dark. Grabbing a heavy metal tray from the supply cabinet, I awaited whoever should come through my door.

Janet walked in pushing a cart. She immediately noticed I was not in bed and started for the phone. Acting instinctually, I shuffled quickly across the room. She turned around and gasped at the sight of me as I swung the metal tray hard against her head. She fell to the floor and rolled around dazed. Seeing that she hadn't fallen unconscious, I scuffled over to the drawer I'd seen her open so many times and grabbed a syringe from its contents. Ripping open the plastic, I pulled out the needle and jammed it into her thigh.

"Sorry," I whispered as she stared at me with eyes wide with recognition. They slowly fluttered close and she fell limp on the floor.

"I've got to get out of here," I said to myself. I pulled myself to my feet and walked over to the open door. I peered cautiously into the hallway and saw no one. My legs were working better now but I knew I wouldn't stand a chance if I had to run. What could I do? There was no choice. I was going to have to try.

I went over to Janet and searched her pockets, hoping to find one of the key cards the doctor's used to get in and out of the place. Her pockets were empty so I turned my attention to the lanyard hanging from her neck. Behind her ID tag was the key card I was looking for. I pulled her heavy unconscious body up off the floor and slid the lanyard over her head. Breaking the key card off the lanyard, I took my prize and left the room.

The hallway was dark so I knew it must be night. At night there were very few staff members around so I wouldn't be so easily caught. I chuckled unbelieving; this just might work.

Tiptoeing down the dark hallways, I went for the court yard. I would have the best chance if I escaped into the woods. I also knew that Lisha lived on the other side of the forest. If I could find her I would be safe. I looked around as I swiped the card. Seeing no one, I walked outside.

With a dull thud, I felt a pain in my stomach, the air being forced out of my lungs. I doubled over, trying in vain to catch my breath. Taylor's henchman stood before me, bringing his massive fist down against my jaw this time. I fell to the ground and saw liquid crimson dripping from my mouth, painting the grass beneath me.

I looked up at him, his colossal body towering over me. "This is not a dream," I muttered in surprise. The proceeding events unfolded though as if it were a dream. Like my dreams, I was beaten then dragged back to the very place I so longed to escape, though this time I wasn't taken to my modestly comfortable room. He took me some place I had never seen before—a room that looked more like a dungeon with surgical instruments scattered about and shackles on the wall. He threw me down against the wall with the shackles, my head slamming against the brick. Being unnecessarily forceful, he took my wrists and shoved them into the shackles. After making sure they were secure he left the room.

I lay against the brick wall, my body limp. I couldn't believe how fucked up things had become in a matter of days. I knew all along there was something wrong about this place but I never imagined it would come to this. And now it was over. I'd failed to solve another mystery, and this time it would mean my death. I wondered what would happen to Lisha. I hoped she was safe, wherever she was, and that she would leave this place and never look back. I wondered if she would miss me. She would never know, but she made my remaining days very happy aside from the fact I had been sent to die in some kind of hellhole death trap. I wondered what I had done to deserve this. It was all a result of some failed experiment.

Then it occurred to me. They told me I was sent here to recover when they knew it was all about containment. They didn't want anyone to know that the project they'd poured millions into had any failures, even if only one person had experienced so many negative side effects. So they sent me here to keep me out of the real world so that no one would know and Crowley could run as many tests as he wanted. However, I couldn't think of an explanation for why they would try so hard to keep me alive. It didn't matter now. I would be dead soon. I waited in the dungeon I'd been stored in knowing the henchman had gone to get Taylor. It was only a matter of time now.


	12. Chapter 12

_This is a pretty long chapter, so sorry in advance! This is also the next to last chapter. Thanks for all the support so far. All the followers of this story have made it fun for me to write! I hope you enjoy! –ghost-wiring_

For hours I'd been falling in and out of consciousness and still no one had come for me. Maybe I'd been a bit dramatic in assuming they were going to kill me. Maybe instead my destiny would be rotting in some dungeon-esque basement for the rest of my life. Who could tell at this point? My head hurt too much to think clearly. It had been throbbing since my scuffle with Taylor's henchman in the courtyard.

The sound of keys jangled outside the door. I pulled myself upright, staring at the door anxiously. Shaking my arms around in vain, I hoped they would break loose from the shackles. This was it—the moment I'd been waiting for. It was time to discover my fate.

The door swung open and shut just as quickly. Hurried steps clattered across the cement floor. The thin beam of a flashlight danced around in the dimly lit room. I couldn't discern the identity of the person who would deliver my fate until she stood right in front of me. It was Lisha.

"It's you!" I muttered weakly but with great happiness.

She smiled through a worried expression as she knelt down in front of me. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug. "Are you ok?" she asked softly.

"Yeah, I think so."

"You're bleeding."

As I explained to her what had happened, I tried to downplay my injuries. She touched my face gently and frowned, unconvinced.

"I've got to get you out of here. There's not much time."

She pulled out a key ring with dozens of different sized and colored keys. After sifting through them, she picked out a small silver one and put it into the locks around my wrists. They popped open with ease, releasing me. She helped me to my feet.

"Can you walk?"

My legs were weak again, wobbling unsteadily under my weight.

"Ok. Put your arm around my waist and walk slowly," she said.

We hobbled along as a four-legged person through the dark hallways. Lisha's eyes scanned the area, checking for opposition to our escape plan. "It's after hours but there are still members of evening crew roaming around. We've got to get out quick before anyone sees us."

I nodded and picked up speed. We reached the front doors and I was glad to see her car parked outside. As she opened the door and tucked me into the passenger's seat, I began having a sinking feeling. I'd been dreaming up illusions and nightmares for such a long time now I couldn't tell whether this was reality or just another torturous dream of freedom. It was all too easy. There was no way this was real.

Lisha had already climbed into the driver's seat. She set the car into motion and sped down the driveway leaving Clear View in the dust. Her satisfied grin disappeared when she looked over at me, slouching in disappointment.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm just waiting to wake up."

Confused, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm dreaming, aren't I? Any second now something terrible is going to happen, then you'll disappear and I'll wake up."

I glanced over at her to find her looking very sad. "No," she said after a moment, "you're not dreaming. This is real." She picked up my hand and put it against her cheek. "I won't disappear this time."

Her skin was cool and smooth like always. After touching her, some of the worry seemed to fade. "I hope you're right."

We drove in silence for a few minutes. I had so many questions for her but I didn't know where to begin. "How did you find me anyway?"

The break in silence seemed to startle her. She smiled and said, "After the wreck I began keeping tabs on Taylor."

"So the wreck was real?"

"Yes. It was then that I knew Taylor had gone too far."

"What do you mean?"

With great hesitancy she began explaining. "You remember Gore, Taylor's henchman, following us, right?" I nodded and she continued. "Well, apparently, Taylor had been riding passenger with him. I guess he let his rage get the better of him. Of course, he told his superiors that it was an accident—that another car had caused the wreck, but I knew better. I tried to tell them what had really happened but they wouldn't listen. They decided it would be best if we treated the situation like it had never happened. So began the mind fucking. They kept you in a coma for two weeks before allowing you to wake up. It gave them just enough time for all wounds to heal and all damage to be repaired. Then they told you you'd suffered a seizure and that the wreck was an illusion."

Stunned, I took a moment to think before asking my next question. "What does Taylor want?"

"I think he's losing it. He knows his superiors have full trust in him so he gets away with anything. Why he has a personal vendetta against you, I don't know."

"What about Crowley and the tests? They're real?"

"Very real. He's chummy with Taylor so he's getting away with things that were unauthorized in the original treatment plan."

"Was there ever a treatment plan?"

"Believe it or not, there was before Taylor was made head of the project. It'll all be over by tomorrow. I'm going to take you directly to the department heads and let them take over. They wouldn't listen to me before but once they see you they'll know the truth."

"Won't Taylor come looking for us?"

She smiled in a sinister way I'd never thought she was capable of. "Not for a while. I took care of Mr. Gore before he could report to Taylor, and I made sure Taylor had obligations away from Clear View for the whole day. He won't suspect anything is wrong until Gore misses his report tonight and he'll realize that his keys have gone missing."

Lisha's craftiness continued to surprise me. I knew she was very clever but there were things she was capable of that you wouldn't expect out of someone like her. I got the feeling she was something more than she appeared to be.

We pulled into a hotel some time later. "We're going to stay here tonight. I'll go check in."

She returned a few minutes later with the keys to our room. As she helped me out of the car it began to rain. "Great," I muttered under my breath.

"Of all the times…" Lisha squinted up at the dark sky. "C'mon. Let's get inside before we get soaked."

I scuffled as quickly as I could towards the room with Lisha walking patiently alongside me. Luckily it was on the first floor. Lisha swiped the key at the door and let me in. "I've got to go get my bag out of the car. I'll be right back."

While she was gone I surveyed the room. It wasn't the classiest hotel room I'd seen but it contained all the amenities one would expect. I walked past the mirror and caught a glimpse of myself. I was surprised at my appearance—apparently I'd been beaten harder than I thought. Blood had dried all around my mouth and neck. My jeans were frayed at the knees. I lifted my t-shirt up and found an ugly bruise forming on my abdomen. The rain hadn't helped my appearance either. My dirty, wet clothes stuck to my thin frame making me look skeletal. I turned away from the mirror in disgust.

Lisha reentered the hotel room carrying a black duffel bag. She dropped it on the bed and did a quick survey of the room as I had. Her eyes stopped on me. Looking worried again, she asked, "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just hadn't realized how terrible I look. I think I'm going to go get cleaned up."

"Ok. I got some clothes for you."

I smiled a little. "Where'd you find clothes?"

"I stole them from your room at Clear View."

"When?"

"Well, I tried to bust you out last night but I heard someone coming and I had to leave."

"So you're responsible for the loose straps?"

"Yep. Sorry Gore got to you before I could."

"Better late than never, I suppose."

I took a hot shower and felt loads better afterwards. Picking through the clothes Lisha had packed for me, I found something suitable to sleep in and got dressed. When I left the bathroom, I found Lisha had changed into silk pajamas. She lay on the bed, flipping through the channels on the small TV set disinterestedly. I hadn't really thought of it before, but it occurred to me then that there was only one bed.

Lisha cut the TV off and turned her eyes towards me. She smiled and said, "Feel better?"

"Y-yeah…" I muttered. I was still staring dumbly at her lying on the bed in her pajamas, something I hadn't prepared myself for.

She looked around the room and then down at the bed. "Oh…" she said. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you. They only had double beds left. You can have the bed though. I think you've had enough of sleeping on uncomfortable surfaces for a while."

"No, I couldn't. Besides, the chair will beat a gurney or a cement floor any day."

She frowned temporarily before her eyes lit up with resolution. "Why don't we both sleep on the bed. It's pretty big. I think we can stay out of each others' way."

I prayed this wasn't a dream. "Ok then."

I climbed onto the bed and slid under the sheets. She got under the sheets as well and rolled onto her side so she was facing me.

Feeling a bit nervous, I calmed myself down by turning my mind back to our harsh reality. "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

"We're going to wake early and drive out to headquarters. I think I've got enough evidence stock piled to put Taylor away for good."

"You said they didn't listen to you before. Why is that?"

"My credibility with the bureau isn't very good."

I looked at her taken aback. "You have a history with the FBI?"

Sadness visible in her eyes, she answered, "Yes. But that's a story for another time." I gazed at her, curious about her change in demeanor. "Should I turn the light out?" she asked, embarrassment in her tone.

"Yeah, sure." I said.

She leaned over and clicked the lamp light off. We lay in the dark for a few minutes before her whisper suddenly shattered the silence. "Norman? Do you care if I lie beside you?"

_This has got to be a dream…_ "No, go ahead," I answered shakily.

Her warm body cuddled up beside me, her head resting against my chest. She was shaking. "What's wrong?" I asked, worried.

"I'm just scared is all."

"What are you scared of?"

"I'm afraid something might go wrong."

Her vulnerability made me feel strong. She had been protecting me without showing an ounce of fear when all along she was just as scared as I was. I ran my fingers through her silky hair. "I think everything will be fine," I said simply.

She seemed to contemplate what I said before answering, "Yes. Everything will be fine." She fell asleep minutes later, her breathing becoming deep and even. I followed soon after, her warmth and her smell intoxicating me.


	13. Chapter 13

_Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter. My computer died and then school started back so my time has been very limited. Anyway, I decided to split the last chapter into two since it is so long. Enjoy!_

We checked out early the next morning before the sun had fully risen. The car ride into the city was long and Lisha said little. Her diamond eyes stared ahead with intense focus, both hands gripped tightly to the steering wheel. She seemed determined yet there was an air of solemnity to her that I couldn't understand. It reminded me of old war movies—the young soldiers, their steely faces tense, bracing themselves for a looming battle.

The countryside eventually began to evolve into a cityscape. I was relieved to find familiar buildings springing up in front of me. She pulled into a parking garage and we were engulfed in darkness. We drove up a few levels before she pulled into a parking spot. As she turned off the engine she sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the plain brick wall in front of us. At last she turned to me. "We're here," she said with a forced smile.

We exited the car and Lisha walked immediately to the trunk. She rifled through the duffle bag she'd packed my clothes in and pulled out an oversized gray sweatshirt with a hood on it. "Here, wear this and keep the hood on. I'm taking you through a back door but I don't want anyone to see you before we get to Taylor's boss, Mr. Sunderland." She reached back into the trunk and pulled out an object that she hid somewhere behind her. It looked like a gun.

"Are you expecting trouble?" I asked uncertainly.

"I always expect the worst," she answered flatly. She glanced over at me and she seemed to snap out of the daze she'd been in all morning. She put her arms around me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. Surprised by her sudden tenderness, I wrapped her in an embrace of my own. She looked into my eyes. It was hard to tell what she was thinking—she seemed to be going through so many emotions. I tilted her chin and kissed her softly. Her body relaxed, some of the tension seeming to fade. As our lips parted, she looked into my eyes. She was blinking back tears.

"I know our time together has been very short, but I want you to know that whatever happens in there, I love you."

I was a bit stunned by her revelation. I struggled to find the right words to say to her. I wanted to tell her I loved her too, that my love for her had been growing since the day we met, but there was still that something in her eyes, a burden that had been developing over the course of our relationship. This burden seemed to intensify every time we met. There was something she'd been keeping secret and she was so hesitant to talk whenever our conversation drifted toward her past. And there was such sadness in the way she'd just spoken to me. I knew she had doubts about her plan, but she spoke like we might not see each other again.

She didn't give me much time to respond because she'd already switched back into the mode of determination she'd displayed earlier. "Let's get this over with. Stay a bit behind me and don't look anyone in the face until we get to the office."

I was still thinking about what she'd said to me as I followed along behind her. We approached a door that was painted in a way so that it wouldn't stand out from the wall. Lisha glanced at her watch and then knocked on the door in a specific pattern. The door swung open. Dr. Yasuda, the doctor who had overseen my project, stood on the other side. We hurried through the door and the doctor closed it softly behind him.

"Thanks, Ken. Anything I should know about?"

"Haven't heard anything. You should be clear."

Dr. Yasuda looked me over briefly. A look of disgust came over his face. He pulled himself back into his usual air of neutrality and said, "Hello, Norman."

"We should go ahead," Lisha said.

"Yes." The doctor fell in line slightly behind me and the three of us walked down the hallway. I shuffled along behind Lisha, my body still in a great deal of pain from the torture at Clear View I'd suffered. I was beginning to feel another head ache coming on. Lisha with a gun, a history with the FBI, her acquaintance with the doctor that oversaw my case—there were too many questions and things kept getting weirder and weirder.

We came upon a glass door. I could tell it was some kind of meeting room and there seemed to be people sitting at the table inside. Dr. Yasuda went ahead and opened the door. Lisha turned to me and whispered, "Here we go." She gestured for me to walk ahead of her. When I entered the room, the muttering amongst the men seated at the table stopped. All eyes were on me until Lisha stepped in beside me. Some of the men were glaring with disgust, others seemed amused, some simply looked oblivious. I looked at each of their faces. An older man with graying blond hair sat at the head of the table. This must have been Mr. Sunderland, Taylor's boss, that Lisha had spoken of. Directly to his left sat Taylor. He was one of the men who looked disgusted but the only one with eyes on me.

Sunderland turned his attention to the doctor. "Dr. Yasuda, what is the meaning of this?"

"See for yourself, sir. Does his appearance not say it all?" The doctor pulled my hood down and everyone got a clearer look at my busted face. Some gasped in astonishment.

A portly fellow that sat on Sunderland's other side looked at Taylor and said, "This is the man that was placed under your care, Dr. Taylor?"

Sunderland cleared his throat and stood up. "This meeting is dismissed. You three will follow me to my office. You too Dr. Taylor."

The other men filed out of the conference room looking at me pitifully and muttering amongst themselves. When they had all left, Sunderland took the lead and ordered us to follow him. We walked in silence to his office. I stole a glance at Lisha; she seemed more confident now. She was staring at Taylor who was trudging alongside Mr. Sunderland, his eyes to the ground. I could almost feel the anger emanating from him.

We all filed into Mr. Sunderland's spacious office. Dr. Yasuda, Lisha, and I stood on one side of the room, Taylor on the other.

Mr. Sunderland walked around behind his desk and sat down in his chair. "Would you like to explain yourselves? Doctor? Agent Lusk?"

_Agent Lusk?_

"I think my intention was clear," Lisha said coolly. "After all, you wouldn't believe me. I thought you should see for yourself."

"You didn't have to burst into a conference, agent."

"I thought it wouldn't hurt to have a few witnesses."

Sunderland sighed heavily and turned to Dr. Yasuda. "Doctor, what is your involvement in this?"

"Mr. Jayden was my patient. Miss Lusk showed me evidence of his treatment at Clear View and I did not approve. I am here to suggest he be placed under my care."

"Hmm." Sunderland sat back in his chair. He turned to Taylor and said, "Do you have anything to say, Dr. Taylor?"

"I've told you the patient has a tendency to harm himself. That along with the seizures have caused many injuries. I believe Agent Lusk is just wasting your time again."

Sunderland looked back at Lisha. "Agent Lusk, you have no evidence that Mr. Jayden has been treated improperly. It appears that his injuries are consistent with Dr. Taylor's reports."

"Sir, this man has been treated improperly beyond the point of cruelty! There is no way he could cause these injuries to himself considering his current physicality and that's beside the fact that he's been buckled in restraints for weeks!"

"That's enough, agent. Mr. Jayden will be placed back in Dr. Taylor's care. Seeing as how you are suspended, I suspect you will see that you leave these premises immediately or I will have security escort you out. Dr. Yasuda, it is best you don't concern yourself in these matters as they are no longer your concern. I am greatly disappointed that you've both caused such an embarrassment. You are all dismissed."

Dr. Yasuda stepped forward. "Sir, I think you are making a big mistake. I can look at Mr. Jayden and tell that what Dr. Taylor is saying is not true. The injuries are inconsistent with…"

"I said you are dismissed, doctor."

Lisha stepped forward next with more anger in her eyes that I'd ever seen before.

"You're blind, Sunderland. Taylor is a sick, masochistic psychopath! You're going to let him go and when this one comes up dead or missing you'll explain it away like you always do! I can't sit idly by any longer. I won't!"

"You won't have to Agent Lusk because I'm releasing you from service. You need to seek professional help if you believe these serious accusations you are throwing around. In fact, I will recommend it as a condition of your release."

Sunderland pressed a few buttons on his phone then picked up the receiver. "Gregor, will you report to my office." He set the phone down and walked toward the door. "Gore is on his way to escort you back to Clear View. I trust you can keep her under control until he gets here."

"Yes sir," Taylor said quietly.

"Dr. Yasuda, come with me."

The doctor glanced at Lisha with apologetic eyes and followed Sunderland out of the room. When they were gone, Taylor's lips curled into his sickening smile.

"Nice try. I bet you thought you had me."

Lisha pulled out her gun in a fluid movement, so fast it seemed to appear out of thin air. She pointed it at Taylor, her lips snarled in anger.

Taylor laughed. "Come on, Lisha. I know you better than that. You're too smart for this. They'll have you arrested before the bullet casing hits the ground."

"Try me, Taylor."

The proceeding events happened too quickly. Gore slipped into the room unnoticed and struck Lisha in the head with his own gun. She fell to the floor unconscious. I found myself charging towards Taylor, enraged. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Come now, Norman. Don't make Gore hit you too. We don't want you all bloodied up when we leave. They might really start to suspect something."

Gore picked up Lisha's gun and holstered it. He picked her up like a rag doll and slung her over his shoulder. On the way out, they explained to passersby that she had become violent and had to be neutralized. Once we reached the garage, Gore tossed Lisha's limp body into the back of a van. They forced me into the back seat of a car. I heard Taylor's muffled voice through the glass.

"You take the van, I'll take the car. When we get there we'll take them both through the back entrance into the vault. Watch that bitch. She's good at escaping."

Gore climbed into the back of the van. I couldn't see him but I knew he was probably tying her up. I barely paid attention to Taylor as he got into the driver's seat.

"Get ready, Norm. The car ride back to Clear View will be the last time you see daylight."

He kept talking but it didn't matter. I was too busy thinking about Lisha, my mysterious companion, an apparent rogue agent all along protecting me like an angel sent from heaven. She'd sacrificed a lot to save me, but her efforts were in vain. Now both of our fates hung in the balance. I hoped I could talk to her one last time before it was all over.


	14. Chapter 14

_Okay, so I'm not the best planner. ;; There will be one more chapter because this is turning out to be much longer than I originally planned. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy chapter 14!_

Gore escorted me down into the dungeon I'd escaped from the day before. He pressed the barrel of Lisha's gun into my back, urging me on impatiently. I reached the last few steps and he kicked the back of my knee, sending me crashing down onto the hard rock floor. Gore laughed in a primitive way, dragging me along behind him across the length of the room. He made sure I was shackled firmly to the wall.

"Stay put little man," he said, his voice deep, his words thick with a heavy Russian accent. I heard his weighty steps ascending the staircase and the door at the top slammed shut leaving me in total darkness.

Time passed aimlessly as I lay in the dark, too cold and uncomfortable to sleep. I had plenty of time to think about what had transpired over the last twenty four hours. It made complete sense that Lisha was an agent. The advanced knowledge of my case, the sneaking around, the elaborate plans she made all added up now. But her latest plan had ended in failure and I knew now there was no hope. The funny thing was I no longer cared. I only found myself wondering where they'd taken her and what they were doing to her. They couldn't kill her—there would be no reasonable way of explaining that. Then again, maybe they could. Even though Lisha had ingeniously kidnapped me and snuck me into FBI headquarters, displaying for all my damaged physical appearance, they still hadn't believed her and they'd taken Taylor's side. I wondered just how far he could go before somebody would stop him. The thought of it made me sick to my stomach.

There was a sudden thud and the room filled with light. I threw my hands up in front of my face, the unexpected light blinding me. I heard the door opening and an array of footsteps plodding down the staircase. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see three figures before me. The hulking one was obviously Gore, the smaller one Taylor. Gore pushed the third figure onto the floor beside me. I looked down beside me at the bound body. It was Lisha.

"I've brought you company, Norman. The deceitful bitch wasn't willing to cooperate so she'll be staying with you for a while. Don't get used to it though. She's on her way out in the morning. We've got a special place we've saved just for her."

Lisha threw herself forward, landing on her feet. She charged towards Taylor kicking him in the stomach before either of the two men knew what was happening.

"I told you to chain her feet too!" Taylor coughed out.

Gore brought a massive fist down hard on her back knocking her to the floor. He drug her beside me and began chaining her to the wall aggressively.

Taylor smiled in his sickening way. "You see? You'd think she'd have learned by now." He walked over to her and took Gore's place locking in the restraints. "But I should give credit where credit is due. She's always been very clever, very willful albeit stubborn beyond reason."

He forced shut the last shackle and stopped to look at her. Her long black hair was disheveled and obscuring her tear stained face. Her clothes were torn and dirty as if they'd been dragging her around. She had cuts on her body, the blood staining her clothing. She was breathing heavily with a look of pure hatred aimed at the man in front of her.

"It would have never worked out between us, you know. I was far too patient with your shortcomings." He turned to look at me. "Don't worry, Norman. There were no shortcomings in _that way._" He turned back to Lisha leaning in close. He traced his fingers down the side of her face, down her throat. They lingered on her breasts. "Perhaps that's the reason I found it so hard to let you go."

Lisha threw her body forward and spit on him. He retaliated with a hard slap to her face. He laughed in a repulsive way as he got to his feet.

I couldn't grasp what he'd said. I stared between the two of them in disbelief. Taylor looked at me, his vile laughter growing louder. "She never told you, did she?" I bowed my head in shame, unable to look into his vicious eyes any longer. I could feel Lisha shrinking away from me.

"Oh, yes, we have quite a history together. A lurid affair between a young agent and her mentor, it sounds like it belongs in some cheap romance novel, doesn't it? But it's the truth. We were together for nearly two years."

He took a lengthy pause, basking in the awkward feeling that had permeated the room. "Well, I'll leave you two to talk. I've got arrangements to make for Miss Lusk. Enjoy your time together."

Taylor and Gore left the room chuckling to themselves. The door slammed and as the thudding of the light switch sounded we were left in the dark again.

I was unable to think of the right thing to say. I wasn't angry with her, but I couldn't believe they'd been together, and once again, I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it coming. The signs were evident: his possessiveness over her, his hatred of me.

"Norman?" Lisha spoke suddenly.

"Yeah?"

Her reply didn't come immediately. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to say that."

"I don't know what else to say. I can't imagine what you think of me now."

I thought carefully about how I should respond. "I'm not angry with you. It was just…unexpected." She didn't say anything so I kept talking. "I don't understand it. Why?"

When she spoke, she sounded tearful. "I don't know. I was living in a new place, I had a new job and I didn't know anybody. When they assigned him as my mentor, we grew close. He made me feel comfortable with my new life. I didn't know then how he really was."

"It took you two years?" I said, a bitterness in my voice I couldn't control.

She sighed. "I know. I was stupid. There was a part of me that was afraid for it to end. I've never liked being on my own."

"So what was this? A way to get back at your ex?"

She sounded hurt when she spoke. "No. I was always sincere about everything I said to you."

"…I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm just a little tense, I guess."

"I know. It's been some kind of day, huh?"

We laughed in spite of our dire situation. The lightened mood was short.

"What's he going to do to you tomorrow?"  
With hesitancy, she said, "I'm not sure. He told me he's recommended a place to Sunderland for me to seek "therapy". I can only imagine where he's really sending me."

The thought of him taking her away in the morning filled me with anger, fear, and remorse.

"I feel like this would have never happened had I not asked for you to be my therapist."

"If you're going to think like that, I shouldn't have talked to you in the court yard that day. You would never have known me."

"That's a terrible thought," I said. I could tell she was smiling.

"I wish I could be nearer to you right now," she said softly.

"Yeah, me too. I never could have imagined it would end this way."

Lisha was silent for a moment. At last she said, "We may still have a way out."


	15. Chapter 15

The creaking basement door woke me. _Shit! Is it morning already? I must have fallen asleep._

I heard Gore's heavy footsteps plodding down the stairs. I saw his silhouette illuminated by the dim light from the door above. He was carrying a crowbar.

Gore walked over to Lisha and struck the crowbar against the brick wall, barely missing her head. "Wake up! It's time for you to go," he said in his thick accent.

Lisha lay limp, her head slumped over. "No time for games!" The crow bar cracked against the wall a second time, even more forceful than before and ever closer to her head. Gore seemed to study her for a moment. "_Suka,"_ he muttered under his breath. He dropped the crowbar on the floor and fumbled around in his pocket.

It happened so fast it seemed surreal. Gore bent over her, impatiently jabbing his keys into the locks secured around Lisha's wrists. Lisha's knee slammed into Gore's jaw, knocking him back. Her arms free, she reached out for the crowbar but was cut short. Gore recovered and grabbed her by the arm, viciously slamming her against the wall. Lisha slid down dazed as Gore grabbed the crowbar, a savage growling laugh arising. He swung heavily with the steel bar but Lisha was too quick. She grabbed the loose chain from the floor and swung it, wrapping the crowbar up and pulling it away from Gore. She picked it up and, just as he was closing in, landed a sharp blow to the side of his head. The large man fell to the floor, reeling from the blow. Lisha swung once more and he fell motionless.

I watched amazed as she recovered the keys and unlocked the last two restraints on her feet. She looked at me, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Piece of cake," she said.

"You're a little scary."

"He had it coming," she said with a smirk. She used the keys on my locks and I was free.

I stretched my arms and rubbed my wrists trying to rid myself of the stiffness in my body. Lisha's eyes were darting around the room, processing the situation. "Do you think we should lock him up?" I asked.

Her eyes turned to the open door at the top of the stairs. "Yeah, I think that would be a good idea. I don't know if the chains will hold him, but they'll slow him down. We've got to hurry though. Taylor will be here soon."

With a lot of effort, we drug the mountainous man towards the wall and fastened the shackles. Lisha felt around his waistline and recovered her gun. She patted down his legs and stopped at his ankle. Pulling up his pant leg, she found a large knife holstered. "I thought he might have that." She handed the gun to me. "You know how to use one of these, right?"

"I know a thing or two."

She smiled, briefly coming out of search and destroy mode. Her expression quickly turned to one of doubt. "It's going to get hairy out there. Are you ready?"

"I'll do anything to get out of this fucked up place. Yeah, I think I'm ready."

"He'll come for me first. If anything happens, run and don't look back." Her voice began to waiver. I went to her and wrapped my arms around her.

"We're going to get out of here. Both of us."

We left the basement and walked out into the hallways of Clear View. I could tell it was daylight. I hoped there wouldn't be many people out when the firefight ensued.

I walked slightly ahead of Lisha, the gun held firmly in front of me. In the past I worried about the unknown. Now in the face of uncertainty I had no choice but to keep moving and hope for the best. The least bit of doubt could blow everything.

"Up ahead," Lisha whispered. I could see them now. Two men dressed in black were waiting at the end of the hallway, their backs to us. I could see Taylor in front of them, pacing impatiently. "Like we planned," she whispered softly.

Lisha took the lead, tiptoeing down the hall. She moved quietly with the stealth of a weathered assassin. The first guard was taken down easily, the hilt of her knife landing hard on the back of his head. She guided the guard's gun, still in his hand, in the direction of the second guard. "Drop it," she said ruthlessly. The second guard stooped down, putting the gun on the floor then put his hands in the air. She let go of the woozy guard and he fell to the floor. She kept his gun.

Taylor started to laugh. "Why am I not surprised?" He watched amused as she picked up the second gun from the floor, pointing hers at the guard who was now paralyzed with fear. "Where's Gore?"

"He's a little tied up," Lisha said with a smile.

"Ah, you're sense of humor is astounding." His eyes locked on mine briefly and his lip curled in disgust. There was no need to hide his loathing this time. "What do you think you're doing Lish? You know you're not going to get away with this."

"Am I not? I think I'm doing good so far."

"Help me understand what you're getting out of this. Is this some revenge plot? Are you going to run away together just to spite me?" He turned his eyes to me. "A fair warning, Norman—she's fickle. She'll turn her back on you as soon as she's not having fun anymore. Why do you think our relationship ended?"

"Our relationship ended because you're deranged," she snapped. "You're an abusive, sadistic asshole who's got an inferiority complex."

"Don't listen to her, Norman. She's a liar. You should know that by now. She's been stringing you along all this time, never telling you about her dark past, her involvement with the FBI, her involvement with me. She's a cruel, heartless bitch. Don't let her hurt you like she hurt me."

It was strange to see Taylor in this state. For the first time I could see a tiny shred of humanity in the man who'd been so cruel to me over the past months. I believed he was hurting but I couldn't believe anything else he said. He didn't have a great reputation for being truthful himself.

"I'm done talking," Lisha said with annoyance. She brandished the gun at the terrified guard. "You better get out of here if you know what's best for you." The guard ran away, not hesitating for a second. She turned back to Taylor. I couldn't tell for sure but I thought I saw tears in her eyes. "…and you can either get out of my way or I can shoot you."

"There won't be any need in that."

Suddenly the breath was knocked out of me. As I fell to the ground, the gun slipped from my hand. Gore was standing over me, chains dangling from his massive arms. I found myself finding it hard to believe he was really there.

Helplessly I watched as Gore picked up the gun and fired off a shot. Lisha ducked out of the way taking cover behind a wall.

It was hard to tell what happened next.

I heard gunfire and screams.

Taylor's sickening laughter filled my head.

Amidst the madness, Lisha appeared in front of me and stumbled to the ground. She was holding on to her abdomen. I saw blooding pooling underneath her hand.

"Get out of here!" she said, her breaths were sharp with pain.

Once again I felt like I had entered a nightmare. "I…I can't. I won't."

Gore was closing in. I could see he had been wounded in the process too. He was bleeding from his head.

Taylor appeared at Gore's side. "Game over, Lish. Give up your gun and we'll pretend this never happened."

"Fuck off," she growled in pain.

"Very well then." Taylor grabbed the gun from Gore's hand. He aimed the gun not at Lisha but at me.

The gun fired. Lisha threw herself in front of me. She stopped moving, a pool of crimson spreading out underneath her.

A sudden rage blinded me.

I charged at Taylor. I plowed into him, knocking him to the ground.

My fists pounded furiously, indiscriminately against his head, his body.

Gore was closing in.

I turned on him next, pounding uselessly into the larger man's body. He wrapped one tree trunk arm around my neck in a choke hold.

Taylor got up off the ground. He approached me with the gun in hand, finger on the trigger. "That bullet was meant for you," he growled, wiping the blood from his mouth.

He cocked the gun and pointed it at my forehead. "Sweet dreams, Norman."

"Stop! Put the gun down!" Thunders of footsteps were running down the hallway. A group of policemen had arrived with Dr. Yasuda leading the way.

Taylor looked back at me, fury in his eyes.

He pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked.

The clip was empty.

"Get that maniac before he hurts somebody else," Dr. Yasuda said furiously to the police officers.

The officers pulled Taylor and Gore off of me. Immediately I ran to Lisha. I picked her up in my arms. There was so much blood. "Lisha! Can you hear me?"

She was breathing harsh ragged breaths. Blood was pooling in her mouth. I guessed the bullet that was meant for me had hit her lung.

"Help!" I yelled out in desperation.

Her diamond eyes opened and stared into mine. Weakly, she smiled at me. Her eyes closed. Her chest stopped rising. I held her in my arms and I cried.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hello?"

"Mr. Jayden? This is Dr. Barrett at Wade Memorial Hospital."

My heart skipped a beat. "Hello, Dr. Barrett. What's the news?"

"She's awake."

I was out the door before I could hang up the phone.

Two weeks had passed since the standoff at Clear View. Lisha had been saved that morning but only narrowly. She'd been in a coma since she'd been brought back to life in the Clear View medical ward.

The past two weeks had been the longest in my life. After spending a couple of days in the hospital for the treatment of the wounds and neglect I'd suffered at Clear View, I'd spent several more days being interviewed and answering questions for the police.

I learned later on that Lisha had made a back-up plan with Dr. Yasuda. Yasuda had gone to the police with the evidence that Lisha had compiled, along with a ruinous psychiatric evaluation that had been brushed under the rug by Sunderland. It was due to this that Taylor's wrongdoings were noted and a warrant for his arrest was issued. It was my understanding that Gore would be facing severe penalties as well. Sunderland resigned.

The rest of the time I spent waiting. I visited her every day and hoped for her recovery. The doctors said she would make a full recovery from the gunshot wounds. The only uncertainty would be her mental state after waking from the coma.

I arrived at the hospital and made my way to her room. To my surprise, she was sitting up in bed, staring out the window. Nervously, I walked into her room.

She looked around when the door opened. Her eyes met mine and lit with happiness. "Norman?"

I walked over to her and gently wrapped my arms around her. "I can't believe it," I whispered into her hair.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

I pulled back, looking into her eyes. They sparkled with the same glowing intensity that I'd grown to love. "I hope this is not a dream."

"You're not dreaming." She leaned forward and kissed me softly.

Our lips parted. She looked fearful.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Is it over?"

I smiled warmly, holding her close to me. "It's over."


End file.
